


Lies Run In The Family

by jacksonwng



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Betrayal, F/M, Family Secrets, Fluff and Angst, Hunter Stiles Stilinski, Implied/Referenced Torture, Lies, M/M, Pack Feels, Stiles Is An Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-17
Updated: 2013-09-17
Packaged: 2017-12-26 21:05:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/970283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jacksonwng/pseuds/jacksonwng
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles has been training to be a hunter since his mother died. He'd read all the books, he's practised with all the weapons, he knows his strategies. It's just a shame that no one will listen to him.</p>
<p>Apparently, he's too young, too inexperienced - so Stiles seeks to change that, by going after a number 1 in his father's files. An alpha. Derek Hale.</p>
<p>Funny how things turn out, isn't it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lies Run In The Family

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [this](http://imthekeptainnow.tumblr.com/post/61496370959/bring-it-on-wolfey-stiles-is-a-young-hunter-on) gifset, created by [youneedmetosurvive](http://youneedmetosurvive.tumblr.com) .
> 
> Currently unbeta'd, but will be updated when my beta has the time to look :)

 

Stiles wished he could go back to when everything was simpler.

Back when what he had been taught had been the only truth. When there were no gray areas or reasons for doubt. When he didn't question anything.

Back when he had never heard of Beacon Hills or Derek Hale, and everything that he had learnt that made him even consider betraying his family.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. He had been trained since he was a kid to hunt down werewolves, rapid, violent, instinct driven killers that lived to see humanity suffer. It was the duty of him, his father, his grandfather, his great grandfather and a bunch family members from generations before, to act as the judge, the jury and the executioner that protects humans when they cannot. It had him feel...strong, powerful, with purpose. He was to be the knight in the story that rescues the princess (or the prince, since he discovered his affinity for dick) and the villagers by slaying the dragon. That’s how the story goes.

He probably should have guessed that sometimes you only hear one side of the story. He should have guessed that sometimes the dragon is the innocent in the mess, where people are afraid of him so he fights to protect himself and then ultimately dies at the hand of the prejudice. But this...it wasn’t something he had ever thought to second guess. After all, why would he think that his family was lying to him? It just didn’t make sense.

Stiles was the best shooter in the family, according to his father, only next to his cousin, Allison, who never missed a target when she used her bow and arrow. He knew all the methods of assault, he knew every tactic ever used during a hunt of by heart. But he was still a newbie. He’d never been on a hunt before and that meant that, to his elders, his strategies weren’t worth listening to.

“It’s different in real life than in a textbook son,” his dad had told him with a sympathetic smile, clapping him on the shoulder before moving to join in the planning, his Aunt Tilda at the head.

If real life experience was the only way to get his voice heard, then he would get some. That night, he rifled through his dad’s files on every known werewolf pack and it’s members in the surrounding five state radius. The following day, when his father was still sleeping, he snuck off with determination and a mission in mind.

He was going to take down an Alpha.

More specifically, Derek Hale.

According to the file, Derek had inherited his Alpha status from his elder sister, Laura. She was reported missing four months ago and well, given the circumstances, it was obvious what had happened to her. The Hale pack had once been the biggest in California, with nearly 20 members congregated in one place, but six years ago, a fire had wiped them one - men, women and children, leaving only four - Derek, Laura, their younger sister, Cora, who was about Stiles’ age,  and the alpha’s brother, Peter, who only recently was released from hospital six months ago. Since Derek’s upgrade into alpha status, Cora had gone MIA and his pack had grown by five - all werewolves, all teenagers, all bitten. Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey, Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd.

Derek was on the hit list for being out of control and violent. Accused of murdering his own sister, of abusing his power, of turning those who didn’t have the power to tell him no.

As far as Stiles was concerned, what better target?

*

Derek howled, agony in every beat, and Kate laughed gleefully.

Amused.

She found this _funny_.

Stiles’ stomach churned with uncomfortableness and guilt and _god_ , how could _anyone find this funny_? He watched the way Derek’s body bowed and then slumped, his arms giving out and his head tipped downwards. His eyes scanned across the form with eager eyes, desperate and greedy, just needing a sign of life.

Derek’s finger twitched.

*

The first thing Stiles did was his own investigating. He had been taught never to rely entirely on other people when on a hunt, because sometimes, they can’t be there to help. Besides, watching the Hale pack meant it would be much easier to hatch a plan, and he knew exactly how to get close to the alpha.

Fitting into the high school was easy enough. He was of the right age, a few false papers here and there and no one in the administrative system was any the wiser. He introduced himself as Stiles Stilinski, his mother’s maiden name, and that he was an army brat who was used to moving about a lot. This was the last stop that was being made for a while.

From what he had been told, pack members tend to be socially withdrawn. They won’t interact with outsiders, because they don’t trust them. It made them more dangerous, because they distanced themselves from their humanity (it only later occurred to Stiles that they might not trust anyone because of the way people could be manipulated and can be manipulative). So it was surprising when it was Scott that came to him first. He was all grins and smiles and “welcome to Beacon Hills dude” that it was almost easy to forget what he did on a full moon. Not that it stopped Stiles from grinning back and gladly accepting the invitation to sit with them at lunch.

“I was the new kid a few years back,” Scott stated, “And I was completely alone, so I know what it’s like to be on the outside looking in.”

Stiles...didn’t want to like him. He really didn’t. But by the end of the first lunch together, it felt almost as if he had found a kindred spirit, at least in the battle of Marvel vs DC, when Scott complained about the year long battle he and Isaac had been having and then gleeful clapped him on the back when Stiles’ love for Batman was revealed.

Isaac was nice enough. He was quiet for the most part, only really getting involved and passionate when he was arguing his love for Captain America and Iron Man and Hulk in comparison to Superman, Batman and Green Lantern.

Boyd was quieter. Stiles didn’t actually think he said anything. The only acknowledgement was a sharp nod of greeting in his direction when Scott had introduced him. He just eat his lunch slowly, his arm sprawled over Erica’s shoulder - “they’ve been dating for months now, still in the honeymoon stages,” Isaac had told him with a wrinkled nose - while the blond in question grinned flirtatiously at him and made suggestive comments at him. Stiles was pretty sure none of that was serious though, and he was even more certain when Erica turned to look at Boyd as the bell went, expression soft, pressing a kiss to his cheek before bidding them all goodbye.

They seemed...sturdy, together and safe. They looked in control and Stiles had to be honest, not the way he would have expected supposed abused teenagers to act. They seemed like a family, and for some reason, that made Stiles’ chest tighten guiltily.

He pushed away that feeling as soon as it came.

*

The betas cried out to his right, their howls mournful and aching to reach their Alpha. Someone rattled the cage they were in, voice mocking, and there was a threatening snarl, which descending into a pitiful cry when the taser sparked.

Stiles didn’t know who it was. Couldn’t bare to look to find out.

Derek pulled against his chains, jaw snapping at the hunter who hurt his betas, his pack, and Kate tsked at him.

“Now, now, Derek, that’s not very nice, and after all the trouble we went through to make sure this was place was ready for you and your pack. You could at least say thank you,” Kate mocked.

“Fuck...you,” Derek bit out.

“Oh sweetie, you and I both know who got there first,” she smirked.

Stiles flinched.

*

He met Derek four weeks after he had arrived in Beacon Hills. Stiles and the betas had become quite close. He went around to Scott’s for dinner - he still lived with his mother, a smiling and motherly nurse called Melissa, who had been eager to find out about her son’s new friend. He’d gone bowling with Erica, had ran track with Boyd and played video games with Isaac. He had to be honest, just hanging out, getting the chance to do...teenage things, it was almost enough to make him forget why he was there.

Almost.

Derek was his reminder.

The man was the definition of tall, dark, and handsome, with a bad boy look down and eyebrows that were more expressive than any other part of his body (which, to be honest, kind of fascinated Stiles a lot). He was silent and scowly and the first time they met, Stiles babbled at him for three minutes before he grunted and moved to get back in the car, taking Isaac with him. It was a good start, apparently.

“Usually he tells people to fuck off, so I’d say he likes you,” Erica grinned teasingly.

The next time was on a video game night with Isaac. Usually Derek was never at the loft at these times. He had “business to take care of” according to Isaac and Stiles couldn’t exactly question it. There’s only so much that could be passed off as curiosity. But on that day, for whatever reason, he decided to come back early. Stiles watched out of the corner of his eye as Derek shrugged his leather jacket off his broad shoulders, kicked his shoes into an unknown space and patted on sock covered feet towards the sofa they were leaning against. He sat behind Isaac, his leg pressed against his back like a steady presence and watched the movements of the game characters on the television screen. He tilted his head and scratched at the stubble on his chin and, okay, that was more than a little attractive.

He was just a little distracted, they were good at playing human - at least, that’s what Stiles told himself when Isaac beat him in Mario Kart for the first time ever.

From then on, Derek was kind of always there. Isaac-and-Stiles video game nights turned into Isaac-and-Stiles-and-Derek video game and pizza nights. It was...actually a lot of fun. Like for the first time, he got to be a kid.

Don’t get him wrong, Stiles hadn’t had the worst childhood. He was loved by his father, by his mother. He’d seen death and he had been raised to fight, like all members of his family. But stuff like this - the sitting down, messing around, there’s no need to be serious about everything wasn’t an atmosphere he had experienced. At least, not since before his mother had died. It was different and scary and wonderful and it was just enough to make him forget that he had a reason for being here.

Just enough to make him forget that he was a hunter, a werewolf hunter and these people, the ones he had become so friendly with, were the ones he was supposed to hunt. He had a mission, a reason for being here, and he couldn’t let himself get distracted.

But the thing was, Stiles’ heart just wasn’t in it anymore. He found himself purposely arguing himself out of battle plans. Wrong time, wrong place, someone could hear, they could find out. And then Derek. Just Derek. He seemed like a good enough reason in himself.

*

Kate’s gaze rounded to him. “You know, I never did thank you, did I cousin?”

She took slow purposeful steps towards Stiles, making him tense automatically. He could hear the malice in her voice, the way that she spoke just loud enough to make her point. It was just another form of torture for her.

A manicured hand pressed to the front of his shirt. “I mean, it was you that brought us to them, wasn’t it?”

Anger bubbled and he wanted nothing more than to let it run wild. To let his anger and frustration at having been lied to his whole life, and the guilt at what he had done, all the pain he had caused, to people he realised he actually cared about, maybe even loved.

“I...”

His mouth went dry, tongue heavy and throat tight. He wanted to speak...but what could he say? Was there anything he could say to Derek or Isaac or any of them to make up for what he had brought to them? It was his fault. It was his intention to kill an Alpha - no, not an alpha. A killer. He was supposed to stop a killer. Not cause _this_.

Stiles stepped away from her touch and walked out of the room.

Kate clicked her tongue disapprovingly behind him.

*

Stiles hadn’t realised that he had family in the town. He knew of Chris and Allison of course. Chris was his father’s brother, his uncle, but they were complete opposites. His father told with fondness that there was never a time that the two weren’t arguing or butting heads on some subject or another. Not that Stiles had ever seen Chris and John in the same room as each other. Even when Allison could come around and they would play or train, it was Victoria or Kate, his aunt, that would bring her.

The SUV had been waiting for him when he came out of the school, and he recognised Chris leaning against the door. He tilted his head, silently ordering him forward, and Stiles couldn’t help the instinctive way he fell into step.

“Uncle Chris,” he greeted with a grin.

“Your dad called me, he said you ran away,” Chris responded.

“So how did you find me?”

“You took a file, Stiles. Anyone with half a brain could have followed you here.”

“Then why didn’t he come?” Stiles couldn’t help but frown. Why would his dad send the brother he could barely speak with to come and pick up his only son?

“Because this is a neutral zone and if your father or anyone else from that part of California, tries to step foot in this town, Derek Hale has every right to defend his territory. It just saves on blood shed.”

“Then how come you can here?”

“Allison and I...we have special privileges,” Chris answered, without really answering the question. “I can explain everything later,” he continued, and Stiles was sure that he had probably seen the irritated expression, “But you and I, we need to talk.”

Stiles eyed him curiously, but nodded acceptingly, climbing into the passenger’s seat of the car. He wasn’t really sure what Chris had to talk to him about - the amount of time he’d been away, the fact that he had left without a word, that he shouldn’t let himself get attached - but he never expected the words “you need to leave the Hales alone”.

“W-what?”

“Leave them alone. That pack, that file you have, it’s not supposed to exist,” Chris elaborated, “It was part of the deal we made.”

“The...deal? What deal?”

Chris looked uncomfortable and licked his lips. “You know the code that we as hunters and Argents are supposed to stand by?”

“We hunt those who hunt us,” Stiles recited.

“And we never harm anyone who hasn’t done any harm,” Chris added, “Well, their are members of our family that...don’t follow that code. You heard about the fire at the Hale house, yes? I’m sure it’s in that file you took.”

“It happened about six years ago, police said it was just a faulty switch,” Stiles stated, although maybe it was more insisted. Because he knew where Chris was going with this and he didn’t think he could handle the idea that his father would....

“That’s the official story but that wasn’t the truth,” The discomfort on Chris’ face increased, “One of us...trapped the Hale’s inside the basement of their house with wolfsbane and then set the place alit with the help of a few other criminals - arsonists that knew what they were doing. People were bought out, it was covered up...the truth only came out six years ago. Your father and I...we split on the issue. He wanted to offer an apology and then continue to act as normal, as if we hadn’t seen the flaws in our duties, and I...I was the one that offered treaty.”

It sounded like his father. He liked to push things aside and pretend that they didn’t happen in hopes that it would eventually go away. Stiles knew this. They were far too alike in that sense.

Stiles went silent as he tried to process what he was told. He wasn’t even aware that he had clenched his fists until his nails dug into the skin and drew blood. He breathed out shakily as he uncurled his fingers and stared down at the crescent dents in his palm.

“Who?”

He just...he needed to know.

“Who did it? Who set the fire?”

Chris looked sad. “Kate...” he cleared his throat, “Kate’s the one who set the fire.”

*

“Aww sweetie, don’t run away,” she cooed after him, “You’re going to miss the good parts.”

Stiles gritted his teeth and didn’t respond. He stalked down the corridor, following the long and winding paths. He passed a few hunters, a few family members, but he ignored their voices, the way they called his name.

The howls started up again and even at this distance, Stiles could hear them. They made everything hurt. He had to do something, had to fix it. It’s a good thing that he’d been prepared for something like this. It was a good thing he had people on his side.

The iron gate creaked when he wrenched it open, swinging on its hinges and the bottom of the frame scraped against the cobbled floor. Stiles waited, staring out into the darkness for only a few seconds before two forms appeared, highlighted by the dim lights behind him.

Chris held two handguns, his expression grim, and Allison had a crossbow perched over her shoulder. She gave Stiles a small smile, a silent greeting after so long apart and small apology that they couldn’t have met under better circumstances, but Stiles didn’t have the energy to return it. He was focusing his energy on one target only.

“Did you bring it?” he questioned quietly.

Chris nodded jerkily. He switched one gun to his other hand then reached into his back pocket and threw something that Stiles caught easily. He winced when the blades bit into his skin, but he ignored the welling blood in favour of sliding his claw on his hand. He wriggled his fingers, the silver catching the light, and he nodded acceptingly.

He glanced back at the father and daughter duo. “Let’s do this.”

*

None of them had known Kate was in town until it was too late. Until she had messed and manipulated her way around them all. She had tricked Stiles away, called him, told them that she knew everything that he did and was more than willing to help him take the Hale’s. Stiles thought, maybe if he could speak to her, he could figure out what went wrong to make her think it was okay to murder innocent people, werewolves and humans. He hadn’t known that she would go to Derek, tell him that she had Stiles and that the only way to get him back, unharmed, was to show up at the cellar on the grounds of the burnt remains of the Hale house.

And of course, Derek had a formation in play. If he was taken, there would still be his betas, there and ready to swoop in, rescue Stiles, save Derek, stop Kate. But she had been expecting that.

Stiles had never seen betrayal than the look on Derek’s face when he looked at Stiles, struggling against his restraints. It was as if he didn’t want to believe it. As if every interaction they had ever had was assaulting him all at once and he was buried under the truth of it all. The truth that he had been played with. That he had risked his life, and that of his pack’s, to save someone who had walked them all to the slaughter house.

It was that memory he kept in mind when he, Chris and Allison marched their way through Kate’s stronghold. It was that he envisioned when shots and arrows were fired and people he knew and, in a few cases, had once respected fell under the onslaught. It was the hatred he remembered feeling for Kate, for the lies his family had told him, when he turned on Kate and pressed the blades to her throat.

The room was still, tense, as if no one really expected what had happened and had no idea how to react to it. Kate arched her neck against his shoulder, but she didn’t seem afraid. It was almost like...she had expected it.

She laughed. “Of course, it would be you. Did my brothers put you up to this? I never expected them to get some kid to do their dirty work.”

“You killed innocents, you’re torturing a pack who hasn’t done anything and you used me to do it,” Stiles bit out.

“What? You’re telling me you would have played along if I had told you the truth?” Kate arched an eyebrow.

Stiles pressed his hand closer to her throat. “Never. I’m not like you.”

She tittered. “Are you going to kill me Stiles? Your own aunt? Your _family_?”

He clenched his eyes shut. “No. I’m not like you. I don’t kill,” he told her, “But I do maim.”

He didn’t allow her the time to react, the time to get out of his hold, before he swapped arms, holding her in place with his forearm, before embedding his blades - no, his claws, into her stomach. She gurgled and made a choked noise. He didn’t listen, he didn’t care. Stiles dropped her quickly, stepping over her body to get to Derek. He yanked the glove of his hand and reached, desperate and shaking, to touch Derek’s cheek. He didn’t have the stretch to recoil away, but the dark expression, the hurt and angst in his eyes, was enough to tell Stiles that if Derek could have, he would have.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry,” Stiles blurted, the words falling before he could stop them. Tears blurred his eyes and his chest tightened painfully. “I didn’t know, I didn’t...god, I’m so sorry.”

Derek was silent. Stubbornly so.

Stiles told himself he deserved it.

*

Stiles stayed with Chris and Allison in Beacon Hills for a few days. His dad had to deal with the backlash of his son’s actions, something Stiles couldn’t help but feel guilty about.

“Son, really, you did what I should have done a long time ago,” he assured lowly, “The least I can do is do the clean up.”

It was nice, catching up with family, but it was a stark contrast to how everything was before. He had spent weeks surrounded by the pack, surrounded by the noise and the smells and the touches, and the comforting closeness that came along with it. Maybe that was why he spent most of his time with Allison. He had missed her, of course, but she seemed to be the closest thing to the pack experience that he could find.

“Scott and I...we’re...together, I guess,” Allison told him once, “That’s why Derek lets me and my father into the town without worry. Scott...he was pretty determined not to keep us apart, even with dad and I travelling all the time.”

“He seems like the type to do anything for people he cares about,” Stiles smiled faintly.

She returned the smile, a sad tinge to the edges, and she reached out to grasp his hand. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t need to. The look on her face said it all, and Stiles was sure all his emotions were splayed just as obviously on his own.

It was an unspoken decision from that time on that they wouldn’t speak about the pack.

Still, that didn’t stop Stiles from thinking about them. He found that he wanted to be in their company more than he’d wanted to be in anyone elses. He wanted the closeness, the carefree way they had acted around each other. He wanted Scott’s way of making you feel completely safe; Isaac’s passion when he was talking about the things he loved; Erica’s flirting and teasing that made you feel like you were one of them; Boyd’s quiet nature that made you feel like you could tell him anything; Derek’s....everything.

He missed the way Derek looked, the way he smelt, the brass of his voice. He missed the way Derek acted around the pack, how he was fiercely protective of them all. He missed the feeling of being touched, of being held. He held onto the memories of lying in Derek’s bed, of the warmth and the closeness. Derek had laid on his back, watching him closely and listening - or at least, mimicking that he was - as Stiles babbled about this thing and next. Sometimes, Derek would grasp his hand, tracing the marks and dents of his fingers, the tickling sensation something that stayed with him, even now that he was aware he didn’t have the right to look back fondly on those oh so private moments.

There were a few times he thought they would come and find him. Stiles had only seen them once since he had been pulled away by Chris. He’d locked eyes with Isaac and after two seconds that seemed to stretch for centuries, before Stiles panicked dropped everything and made his escape from the supermarket. He hadn’t been out of the house since.

He had thought over ways he could have made it better, how he could have tried to apologies, tried to salvage what was left of his relationship, but no, he had been too afraid to. Besides, he had no right to expect anything from them, at least he didn’t feel like he did, and with everything he had found out, he didn’t want to taint anymore of those happy memories.

But that didn’t mean he couldn’t hope, and boy, did he.

Even on the day that he was supposed to be moving back home, when John had finally dealt with everything - Kate, the bodies, the family backlash - he still found himself scanning the horizon with an almost habitual urgency. Stiles jumped when the boot of the car was closed sharply beside him.

“All packed and ready to go,” his father announced, with a gleeful expression. He probably couldn’t wait to get out of this town.

Stiles tried to smile in return. “Right. We should...” his eyes darted outwards before returning and he refused to look back, “We should go,” he said firmly.

His dad’s smile faltered at the edges. “Unless, of course, you want to stay here?” he offered uncertainly, “I mean, it wouldn’t be that hard to move. A few days at the most, I’m sure your uncle can help set us up. There’s openings at the police station.”

_Yes_ , Stiles wanted to say, _god, yes, let me stay_.

“No,” he responded instead, “It’s fine. We...let’s just go home.”

It’s funny how much home didn’t feel like home anymore.

His dad nodded understandingly, frowning slightly. “Okay. If that’s what you want,” he conceded, “Let’s just say goodbye to your uncle and cousin.”

Stiles nodded acceptingly, and he couldn’t control the way his eyes flicked to the side, just one more time, just one more and he’d stop-

And his breath caught.

Derek.

At first, he thought he was imagining things. But the longer he stared, and the longer Derek didn’t suddenly blink away, the more he was sure this was real. Derek tilted his head to the side, beckoning him closer. How could Stiles refuse?

“I’ll...I’ll be there in a minute, I just have to...” he didn’t even finish the sentence before he was crossing the road at a jog, his heart beating faster as he got closer and closer. What was he going to say? What could Stiles say in return? He could say sorry but he’d said it so many times, he wasn’t sure whether it seemed fake anymore.

“You’re leaving,” was the first thing that Derek said.

“I, uh, y-yeah, I mean, I don’t have a reason to....and I should go,” he continued on hurriedly, “I just, I shouldn’t have come here in the first place.”

“Probably not,” Derek replied. It sounded as if he were agreeing, but his expression was blank, his voice void of emotion.  It didn’t seem very convinced.

Stiles kicked at a rock by his foot and swallowed nervously. He glanced unsurely between his converses and Derek’s face. “It is selfish of me to say that I don’t regret it,” he said lowly, “I just...meeting the guys, and you, it was...nothing like I’d experienced before. I’m...I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

“You’ve said that,” Derek pointed out.

He huffed, frustrated and red cheeked. “What else am I supposed to say?”

“I’m not expecting you to say anything.”

“I nearly got you killed!”

“You’re also the one that saved us.”

“But I wanted to be the one that killed you.  I did. I...I was so tired of being treated like a child, like someone who didn’t know what they were doing that I was going to kill you to get it, and god, that sounds even worse out loud than it does in my head.” Stiles sighed, his shoulders slumping, “Why are you even here?”

“...Believe it or not, I came to thank you,” Derek admitted, uncomfortableness seeping into his voice.

“Wha?” Stiles blinked, confused.

He breathed out harshly through his nose. “Yes, you tried to kill me and yes, you manipulated me into...” he cut off sharply, as if he didn’t want to say it. Stiles...wasn’t sure he wanted to know. The possibility of what could have been said made his chest ache anymore. He didn’t know what the reality could do. Derek pressed on quickly, “But you saved us. You...turned against your family, for us.”

“For you,” Stiles corrected, “Well, for the pack too because they’re important, but you...I couldn’t let you die.”

Derek looked a little lost, like he didn’t know what he was supposed to do next. He licked his bottom lip and his hands flexed at his sides. “I...thank you,” he finished lamely.

Stiles couldn’t help but feel disappointed at the reply, but really, what else was there to say? He nodded jerkily and cleared his throat through the lump that formed there. He forced a smile, wide and beaming. “Right, so, now that’s done, it’s like an hour and a half drive so I need to stay goodbye, and then get going. I’ve said sorry and you’ve said thank you, and I don’t think there’s anything else to say so I’ll just be going now.”

“Wait.”

Stiles froze in his movements.

“You...you should come back sometime. Try to start over again.”

“You want me to...come back to Beacon Hills?” Stiles summarized, surprise and hope seeping into his voice before it hardened suspiciously, “Why? Did someone put you up to this?”

“Cora,” Derek admitted, “And her girlfriend, Lydia. Scott too, he’s kind of the forgiving type and well, the others are easily swayed when it comes to him. He seemed to think you deserve the chance to prove yourself - and then there’s Cora, who doesn’t want me to give up, and I’m inclined to agree.”

Stiles didn’t say anything, he couldn’t. He just watched as Derek stepped closer and rose one hand to stroke across his cheek.

“I felt something...for you, and I haven’t in a long time,” he continued, forcing the words out in a way that it almost made Stiles smile - he had discovered that Derek wasn’t much of a feelings guy. “And I don’t trust you. Not completely. But I want to, I really want to.”

“I want you to trust me,” Stiles whispered, his voice croaked.

Derek stared for a moment before taking a step back, nodding satisfied, and removing his hand. It left him open to the cold and he missed the touch instantly.

“Then come back,” Derek responded simply.

Stiles nodded slightly. “Y-yeah, okay. I will, I will. I will be back. And we’re going to go on a date, a real one, in front of people.”

Derek arched an eyebrow, a mixture of amusement and fondness that Stiles never thought he would see again. “I expect to be wowed.”

“I’ll start making the plans.”

When Stiles finally climbed into the back of the car, after hugging Chris and Allison goodbye and making his plans to come back very well known, and he saw Derek standing in the rear view mirror, Stiles’ smile came easy for the first time in days.

“Are you and I going to talk about that?” John questioned, as they drove over the land lines of Beacon Hills.

Stiles flushed. “No thank you.”

“Fine. But remember that I am your father and you are still underage.”

“Dad, please, no.”

“And I have bullets with his name on them.”

“ _Dad, you’re not shooting Derek Hale!_ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've been wanting to write a hunter!Stiles for a while and this gave me the perfect excuse. I have a few more ideas for hunter!Stiles and his relationship with Derek so I may or may not write more for this world.
> 
> Let me know what you think either here or on my [tumblr](http://imthekeptainnow.tumblr.com) :D


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